When my cell phone buzzes from the table, I almost grab it and smash it against the wall. Whoever it is can wait. I get a little philosophical in my half-asleep haze, cursing technology and convenience and wishing that Erik and I were on a farm somewhere, disconnected from the world.
But when I answer the call, all those happy dreams vanish at the snap of a finger.
“Mom?” I walk into the hallway, phone held against my ear. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, Camille.” She’s been crying. “It’s your brother.”
My body gets cold, like somebody-turn-down-the-fucking-air-conditioning cold. No, worse than that. Suddenly, it’s like I’m standing in the middle of a blizzard with shards of ice whipping at me.
“Oh God, is he …”
“Missing,” she says quickly. “He’s been missing for days. And—well, you know what he’s like. I didn’t think much of it at first. But it’s been four days now and I’m worried. He’s never been gone this long.”
“He’s probably found a poker table someplace,” I mutter, but that doesn’t exactly comfort me. It doesn’t ring true, either. I can tell by my mother’s voice: this isn’t normal Rob behavior.
“I’ll ask Erik to look into it,” I tell her.
“Thank you, but there’s something else. I’ve been getting these calls. The voice is all robotic, like the kind bad guys use in the movies when they’ve taken a hostage. The number is always unlisted.”
“What sort of calls?” I ask.
“Threats, Camille.” She bites back a sob. “They say the most awful things. They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill Rob. They’re going to—I can’t even repeat it.”
My mind whirs toward an absurd idea, or an idea that should be absurd. Erik was set up and it failed. Now Rob is missing and somebody clearly isn’t happy with him—understatement of the century—and so is it possible that Rob was the one who called the police on Erik?
“Erik will help us,” I say. “Just try and stay calm, okay? I’ll be there soon.”
“I’m sorry to be a bother—”
“Mom, don’t be stupid! I love you.”
I’m about to return to the bedroom when I hear a muffled grunt from down the hallway. Instinct drives me toward it, probably a stupid one. This is how girls get killed in horror movies, after all.
But by the time that’s dawned on me, I’m standing at the top of the stairs.
Rob is hefting a large burlap sack, looking like a cartoonist’s impression of a burglar, complete with black wool cap and thick black gloves. The only thing he’s missing is dollar signs in his eyes.
“Rob!” I hiss.
“Ah!”
He spins, dropping the bag. A brick of cocaine falls out and tumbles down the stairs. He has the gall to laugh when he sees it’s me.
“Shit, sis, you scared me.”
“What the hell are you doing?”
I take the steps two at a time and use my big-sister strength to shove him against the wall.
“How did you get in here? What about the guards?”
He brushes my hands away.
“This ain’t what it looks like,” he mumbles.
His lips are dry and cracked and his eyes have never been more saucer-like. He’s not just high. He’s on freaking Pluto.
“Start explaining yourself, now,” I snarl. “Or I swear to God I’ll wake Erik up and let him deal with you.”
“Will you just—”
“If you tell me to relax, I’ll deal with you myself.” I grab a bunch of his hair and give it a twist. “I’m not screwing around here.”
“Ow, ow!” he whines. “Jeez, just … fucking hell, sis. All right.”
He pushes my hand away.
“One of Erik’s lieutenant guys told me he’d pay me two hundred big ones to frame him for that double murder. It should’ve been easy, y’know? Win-win all around. But rich men get away with everything.”
Even if it was what I suspected, I still feel like I’ve been sucker punched.
“And now you’re here to frame him. You’re not stealing coke. You’re fucking planting coke!”
He smiles sadly. “You always were the smart one, huh?”
“Rob.”
I put my hand on his shoulder, softening a little.
“I know it feels like you don’t have a way out, but we’ll explain everything to Erik. He’ll help you. We’re together now. I’m going to have his child. Shit, we might get married at some point. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You don’t know him,” Rob growls.
It’s like his high mask is eating into his face. The last recognizable remnants of my little brother disappears as his eyes glaze over.
“You don’t understand these people. Erik will fucking execute me. That’s what they do.”
“Rob …”
“No!” he snaps.
He shoves me in the chest. It’s more the shock that sends me reeling back, stumbling onto the stairs.
When I make to stand, he pulls a gun from the back of his pants, licking his lips and glancing around like he knows this is fucked but he’s in too deep now.
“Stand up, sis.”
25
Erik
When you have lived the life that I have, you become attuned to certain things, able to distinguish between a car backfiring and a gunshot, reading the intent in a man’s eyes moments before he swings on you.
The first thing I notice is the quality of the air.
It is cooler. Camille is gone.
Then I hear it: low rumbling from downstairs. A man’s voice, but not Adrian’s, and it is too late for the butler to be in conversation in any case.
I rise from the bed and follow the voice, that strange mixture of calm and adrenaline gripping my body.
I pause outside the living room.
“Will you just fucking move?” It is Rob’s voice, shaky and intoxicated. He sounds like a man on the edge of a very bad decision. “Stop messing me around, sis.”
“You’ll have to shoot me,” she says. The strength in her voice makes me proud. She will truly make a solid Bratva leader if the time ever comes. “What about it, Rob? Do you really think you’ve got that in you?”
“I had
